


Perseus Shah and the Case of the Malevolent Mask

by cheriecolas, tylermblue



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Detective Peter Nureyev, Injury, Other, Thief Juno Steel, if it's in the canon it's probably in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 06:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17340677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheriecolas/pseuds/cheriecolas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylermblue/pseuds/tylermblue
Summary: This guest has been a fixture at The Penumbra for as long as anyone can recall. He's a detective by the name of "Shah," and he's just received a very strange message.An ancient curse has supposedly claimed its very first victim. And if the crime scene is to be believed, Detective Perseus Shah might just be its second. ...What luck! Sounds like he's in. Come, Traveler. Come with me into room P12.





	Perseus Shah and the Case of the Malevolent Mask

**Author's Note:**

> if you look up "self-serving" in the dictionary, it just links to this. it's getting us a lot of undeserved clicks, actually.
> 
> PLEASE be forewarned that this is not only an rp—it's gone through heavy editing to make it palatable, but two pairs of biased eyes and a $30 per month editing program can only do so much in the long run—but also a reworking of the entirety of 2mask2murderous. there's going to be lines that are pulled straight from the original podcast and the case plot has NOT been changed; as we said, it's a self-indulgent roleswap. if you're not going to enjoy yourself reading through a transcript, you probably won't enjoy yourself here.
> 
> BUT if you're down to clown with the fanatical imaginings of two gay bastards, thanks for reading. we really do appreciate it.

Hyperion City.

It's been _said_ that it's the most beautiful place in the galaxy but an actual resident, as opposed to these quote-unquote _sayers_ , might tell you otherwise. It sells a lot of postcards, of course. _Hyperion_ : dominant skyline, twinkling pinpricks of light and neon waves cascading through with gleaming satellites hanging from the heavens forming a man-made crown. It _is_ gorgeous.

But a skyline only tells you so much. Beneath a dazzling shimmer, you're bound to miss its dark underbelly. It's hardly what you'd call a _clean_ _break_.

I was considering such uncleanly matters a great deal on the day I took the case of the Death Mask of Grimpotheuthis.

Primarily because I was looking at someone's insides.

The intercom beeped and pulled me out of my forced rumination.

"Mista Shah!" Rita harped, tinny over the speakers. "What's with that message ya got sent, huh?"

On my personal screen was what I had momentarily struggled to recognize as a trophy case. Not because of an odd shape or anything to that effect; it was merely covered in too much blood and half-a-cadaver for my tastes.

If you can believe it, that wasn’t even the part of the image that had my rapt attention. _That_ honor went to the wall behind the case, which had written on it—and if I may clarify, written in _blood—_ "YOU'RE NEXT PERSEUS SHAH."

That was less than ideal, all things considered, because _I'm_ Perseus Shah. I'm a Private Investigator in Hyperion City. With as messy a side as this city seems to have, keeping things clean is my job. I do my utmost to see it through, but... on occasion, I'm prone to feeling as if there’s just too much for one man to handle.

The comms beeped and Rita was back again.

"Whoa! Boss, I'm gettin' _anotha_ one of the weird messages! It's a call'a some kind, but the readings are all _woobly_ and—"

"Who is it _from_?"

"Well, that's tha' thing boss, it doesn't say. Can't even feel _safe_ in your own boss's _office_ anymore... Almost made me choke on my _Pretzel Bits_ and now I got _Salmon Paste_ all over my—"

"Be a dear and put it through, Rita?"

"I'm _tryin'_ , Mista Shah, but it's just kinda—"

The comms beeped once more. Third time's the charm.

"Shah, you said? It's been a longer time than I've realized, it seems."

"Goin'... through by itself." Rita sounded dejected. Shady agencies had the odd and occasional tendency of taking over her job for her.

"No need to fret, Rita. It's just an old friend. Go back to your meal, and _don't_ leave any Salmon Paste on my carpets, please," I said.

_'An old friend'_ was a misnomer for Agent Sasha Wire, operative for the Dark Matters Special Investigations team. We had worked together at Dark Matters in the past, but that _past_ had been about ten years prior before I was kicked out. Hadn't even received _one_ Christmas card.

As a product of this city herself, it was safe to say that Hyperion bore both those who took secrets to their grave and those who made it their goal that things of the past _stayed_ dead.

Except me, apparently.

"It's nice to hear from you again, Sasha. I decided I needed a change of pace." I gestured to the room she couldn't see outside the thin scope of the camera. I’d become what I considered an avid interior designer in between my investigative ventures, dressing the room in shades of plum, maroon, and taupe. I had placed a few ferns in the corners of the room, and Martian succulents on any surface that received enough light for them. I even left a few books artfully lying around, to imply I read them! It was a second home—perhaps even my first, considering the _abysmal_ amount of time I spent here—and I treated it as such. A space of my own, safe from my past.

Up until this very point.

"Fair enough, I suppose," she said. "Though I can't say I'm not surprised; when we last spoke it seemed you—or, should I say, the agent I knew as _Rex Glass_ —were more much more interested in toeing the line of the law than enforcing it."

"I haven't the _faintest_ idea what you're talking about. I was an _upstanding_ agent! How _are_ things at Dark Matters, by the by—?" I hardly paused after cutting myself short. "Oh, wait! 'Classified,' yes?"

"I'm glad to see you're on top of things." She smiled, and it was not kind in the slightest. "I'm not here for a reunion, Shah. Have you heard of the Death Mask of Grimpotheuthis?"

"Business it is, then. I assume you've discussed my rates with Rita." I cleared my throat and started at the very beginning. "A previously undisturbed Ancient Martian tomb is discovered near Olympus Mons during the filming of a Kanagawa 'primetime special.' Croesus Kanagawa films his exposé of the excavation. He finds, collects, and _destroys_ a few thousand years worth of _priceless_ Ancient Martian artifacts until he opens the burial chamber of Grimpotheuthis. He finds the Death Mask there, and the carvings around the Mask speak to what happens when it is disrupted. Quote, 'Grimpotheuthis has earned eternal rest,' unquote, and that the Mask is to be left undisturbed or else his ghost will _resurrect_ itself and seek out _vengeance_ upon whoever disturbed the tomb." The breath I took was exaggerated purposefully. "Am I essentially up to speed, Agent Wire?"

Though her face was mostly obscured by her dark sunglasses, and the change in expression was almost microscopic, I could tell she didn't look pleased. "Good," Wire says exactly like she didn't mean it. "And I assume I don't have to explain to you that the events that have transpired lead us at Dark Matters to believe that someone has infiltrated the incredibly sophisticated security system at Kanagawa Mansion and murder Croesus Kanagawa, only to paint _your_ name on the wall."

"In _blood_ , no less! I can't imagine what I've done _this time_ to earn it." I leaned back in my chair to the satisfying squeak of it protesting in its old age. "I _was_ planning to look into the case myself, considering it seems like it has my name written _all_ over it."

"‘Case?'" Wire sighed. "Not everyone looks at a death threat and sees a job opportunity, Shah. Dark Matters is willing to offer you our protection."

"I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but I fear a Dark Matters agent looming behind me will do _nothing_ for my nerves. I'm trying to keep my skin clear, you know."

I was also aware I knew a fair amount of secrets that I'm _sure_ Dark Matters would like to simply cut off as 'previously unresolved loose ends,’ but I didn’t _need_ to point that out.

"I'm sure the Saffron Prince of Mars has some products that may help you with the after effects," she said. "We _are_ sending an agent. His presence is not debatable. The Kanagawas were very insistent on _you_ being the one to investigate, and this was the only thing we could get them to agree to."

"Oh, they're _insistent_ about _me_ being there? _I'm_ insistent about how I take my coffee, and not becoming the next star of a viral video entitled 'Longest Most Torturous Death Ever Streamed.' Would you like to know what Croesus's last words to me were, Sasha?"

I didn't wait for an answer.

"My ears were ringing due to the acute tinnitus from a head injury, but I _believe_ it was in a rather simplistic tune in the key of, 'If you ever set foot in here again, I'll kill you.'"

"What in the world did _you_ do to deserve that?"

"I simply saved his son," I said. "...Well, as much of his son as I could. Regardless, _that's_ not the point. Anything related to the Kanagawa family is decidedly _never_ , _ever_ going to be my concern _ever_ again. There's apparently already _one_ vengeful spirit on the loose; I needn't rouse another."

"We'll pay you twice your normal rates."

"And like that, I've changed my mind!” I leaned forward towards my screen, putting my elbows on my desk and my chin on my hands. I imagined that perhaps I looked like the cat who just got the cream, and I didn’t help my case when I batted my eyelashes at Agent Wire. I was certain she did her best to hold back a groan. “Who is this walking suit I'm being chained down by, if I'm allowed to even know?"

"He should be arriving shortly," she said. "His name is Agent Hera Gold; his record is spotless, and I've had the pleasure of working with him on several occasions. I'm almost positive even _you_ will not feel _chained down_ by him, Shah."

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

“Pardon?”

"Well,” I said. “This _has_ been lovely. Goodbye, Sasha. See you in another ten years when I am undoubtedly threatened _yet again_ by supernatural forces!" I ended the call before she could get another word in edgewise.

Perseus Shah was a lot of things, depending on the day. Collector of high art. Amazing cook. _Equally_ amazing gambler. But there was one thing he would  _never_ be: willing to work with Dark Matters ever again.

So I shouldered on my coat and pocketed my keys. If I had moved fast enough, I could have avoided finding out what the goddess of marriage, family, and childbirth was doing at Dark Matters.

_Could_ have.

"Detective Shah?" A voice called from behind my office door. "You said he was in here, um…"

"Rita! _Ri! Ta!_ "

The window it was. I was hoping Agent Gold would fumble with my brilliant—and _stubborn_ —secretary for just a little longer while I jimmied with the lock and heaved it open. _One_ leg through…

The door opened. The voice offered a begrudging _‘thanks'_ to Rita—who made a noise somewhere between annoyance and disgust—and the person behind it stepped into my office. A pause, and then he cleared his throat.

"Getting some air, Shah?"  

"Oh, just _plenty_ of it, Agent Gold! It's lovely out here in the Martian climate! _You_ should take a breather! ... _Outside_ of my office, _not_ accompanying me _at all_!" Decidedly against my will, I pulled the ninety percent of me that had made it out back inside.

He was tall—shorter than myself, but tall—and lean. A distinctive pale scar ran from cheek to cheek across his nose, but there were more dotting his features that I was sure I'd _love_ to take my time counting. Even with an eye hidden behind an eyepatch, his furrowed brows and the firm set to his mouth told me he would feel most comfortable in this situation if he had to flay me like a cheap Martian fish.

Considering all the close brushes I could no longer count on my too-small number of appendages, it would _not_ be a bad way to go.

"You _are_ Agent Gold—Hera, may I call you Hera?"

"...I guess," he said, pulling a face that showed off how unenthusiastic he really was about the prospect. I paid it no mind.

"Well, Hera, with how I'm planning for this to go, it shouldn't matter who you are, anyways. Rita!" I waited a moment, but there was no reply. "... _Rita_!"

"I'm not dealin' with him _agaaain_ , boss," she called from the waiting room. "He's your own problem now!"

I sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of my nose beneath my glasses. A tail was _still_ a tail, no matter how tall, dark, and handsome. I moved past the agent through the door.

"What do I pay you for, _other_ than to look as pretty as you always are, Rita?"

"I'unno, Mista Shah..." She giggled like she was punch-drunk.

"Don't let the place catch fire while I'm gone, dear, and _don't_ set fire to it if you _think_ you see a rat. _Again_." I patted her hand lying on the desktop and made my exit.

"I'll do my best, boss!"

Hera followed. "Some secretary you've got, Shah," he muttered.

"The best, in fact," I said, just on the side of testy. Killing a Dark Matters suit was _insignificant_ in the name of things I would do for my dear Rita. I did manage to rein it in, however. "It just requires finding the right way to talk to her, as I have. There's a right way to talk to _everyone_ , Agent—you just have to find it. Here's hoping we find ours soon, hmm?"

He scowled at me, wariness clear as a star in his eye. "...Sure," he said. "I'd like for you to try telling that to Sasha. You just got off the phone with her, right?"

"That I did," I hummed. "Why do you ask? _I_ certainly think it went alright."

_And_ found it interesting that someone Agent Wire had the _‘pleasure'_ of working with thought she was hard to please.

"Well, maybe she's changed in the time since I last saw her," Hera said with a shrug. "You should catch me up on what you know about this Grim's Mask stuff, Detective. Seeing as you're not as scared about this mummy's curse as I thought you'd be."

"Well, I've never gone in much for ghost stories and tales of boogeymen. The living are always _far_ scarier but I would _love_ to share the details! According to the legend, Grim's ghost tends to take a sub-corporeal form made primarily of animal bones, serrated brass, and clotted blood, and he _rips_ each target of his vengeance into—"

"Alright.” Just like Wire, Agent Gold didn't look too happy with my knowledge, though I did think it had more to do with unease than anything else. “Are we getting in the car or what?" 

"I kid, I kid! And, even if I'm ripped apart by a ghost stalking me angrily from beyond the grave, it won't _all_ have been for naught." I held open the door for the agent, the beginnings of a toothy smile on my face. "It's brought you to me, Hera Gold, and I'd say _that's_ payment in full."


End file.
